


We're Snow Angels

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Death of a Parent, Fluff and Angst, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trowa spends winter break at school and makes a new friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Snow Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akira_1x2](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=akira_1x2).



> Written for akira_1x2's Gundam Wing Advent Calendar.

The steam from Trowa's still too warm to drink hot chocolate made patterns on the foggy window as he stretched out bracing sock clad foot against the peeling white frame. His hip braced against the sill turned it into a slim seat that required the skills of a contortionist to make it anything close to comfortable. Beyond the glass snow fell in damp clusters that stuck to things briefly before landing in a plop on the ground or the neck of an unsuspecting pedestrian. The sidewalks and walk ways of the campus lay buried as the last students and professors made their way home. The chiming of ten by the bells on the clock tower signaled that finals and the fall semester were officially over. With the exception of a handful of stragglers everyone who was leaving for holiday break was gone allowing the campus to settle down for her annual winter nap.

In the dorm silence reigned instead of the usual blend of laughter, music and voices. This was Trowa's junior year and the third mid year break he had spent on campus. It wasn't that he didn't have a place to go, his sister Cathy would have welcomed him with open arms, but she and her husband were struggling to get by as it was. The last thing he wanted to do was to add another mouth to feed even if it was only for a short time. Instead he had packed a box with small gifts and mailed it in plenty of time to make sure that his niece and nephew would have something from Uncle Trowa under the tree. He would call her on Christmas day and get passed around to the family before settling down for a long talk while she made dinner.

The residence hall was heated and the main cafeteria would stay open the whole time, even providing a turkey dinner on Christmas day. Silence and solitude were two things that had never bothered him. In fact he tended to enjoy his own company over that of most people. Tomorrow, when it was light, he planned to visit the library and check out a stack of books to read. When class was in session he didn't have the time for anything that was not classwork so his reading for pleasure always fell by the wayside; a victim of Trowa's drive for academic excellence. Now with four weeks stretching out before him he planned to catch up on all the things he'd missed. The thought of curling up with a good book and a mug of something warm brought a hint of a smile to his lips. He loved this time of year even if most people would say it was for all the wrong reasons.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The snow had stopped some time during the night leaving a pristine landscape out of a modern day Currier and Ives print. The thought that he was the first one to mark it with his footprints made Trowa feel like he was an explorer making his imprint on a previously undiscovered land. The image amused him so much that he took the longer route from his dorm to the cafeteria allowing himself a rare indulgence in a flight of fancy. As a result of his snowy trek and sleeping in to celebrate the beginning of break he arrived in the middle of breakfast rush. That is if fifty people over the course of two hours could legitimately be called a rush especially when compared to the usual three times that number that made their way through the breakfast line in half the time.

A smallish section of the seating area was marked off with rope barricades while the rest stood dark, the tables and chairs stacked to one side to facilitate a thorough cleaning of the floors. The air was warm and steamy, heavy with the scent of freshly cooked bacon overlaid with the bite of sauteed onions and the cloying sweetness of maple syrup. Trowa could feel himself salivating as he filled his plate with the hot, fragrant food. His impromptu walk and the cold having worked together to hone his appetite to a much sharper demand than usual.

With a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his lips Trowa found and claimed the last empty table. After setting down his tray and shedding his outwear he returned to the serving area for a large glass of orange juice and a mug of steaming hot coffee. One for the vitamins and the other for the caffeine and warmth. He settled himself in his chair and took a bite of his bacon, savoring the smoky flavor of cured meat mixed with the sweetness of the syrup that had pooled beneath it; run off from the waffle that claimed a good portion of his plate.

“Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but all the other seats are taken. Do you mind if I sit here?”

Trowa looked up from his breakfast with a frown. Standing behind the chair across the table was a gorgeous blond in a coat that probably cost more than Trowa's whole wardrobe. The young man appeared to be about Trowa's age give or take a year or so. His features were soft in a way that was almost pretty though the way he stood gave Trowa no doubt that he were to say so it would not be taken as a compliment. Suppressing a sigh he nodded giving his permission. Normally he preferred to eat alone, but space was limited and he really couldn't justify saying no. The request had been phrased politely and no move to sit had been made until Trowa had agreed which spoke of manners and a respect for personal space.

“Thank you.” Trowa was rewarded with a bright smile that he found himself returning though in a much toned down version. “I didn't think it would be this busy or I would have come earlier. I looked around and yours was the only familiar face I saw.”

Trowa frowned, swallowing his food as he searched his memory. “We've met?” His social group was small enough to be considered intimate and most of them were people he had known for years. “New additions, even at an introductory level stood out because of their rarity.

“Not officially. We had Calculus together this last semester.”

Once again Trowa searched his memory, but the only thing he could pull up was the image of Professor Abernathy. Tall and thin with medium length brown hair that flopped into his eyes, Professor A was passionate about two things, mathematics and table top gaming. His lectures had been one of the high points of the previous semester as they were both entertaining and educational. “I'm sorry.” Trowa shook his head. “I don't remember.” He paused as a flash of something darted across his memory then was gone like a trout dashing from the cover of one shadow to the next. “Sorry.”

“No problem. It was a big class. My name is Quatre, by the way. Quatre Winner.” Quatre's smile never dimmed or lost it's feel of genuineness. “Are you a math major?”

“Trowa Barton. Astronomy and Renaissance history. Double major.”

“It's good to meet a fellow glutton for punishment.” Quatre pointed at himself with his fork and grinned ruefully. “Music and Robotics. Nanotechnology specifically.”  
“Interesting combination are you planning to integrate the two of them?”

Quatre shook his head, pausing his fork halfway to his mouth. “One is for love the other for money.” He chuckled, rich and warm like caramel melting in the sun. “It's not any more unusual than yours.”

“The study of the heavens was one of the major areas of learning. Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, and Brahe all lived in that time. They built off the work done by Claudius Ptolemy contributed a hell of a lot to what would become modern Astronomy.”

“When you put it like that it makes a lot of sense.”

Trowa smiled then ducked his head, hiding behind the fall of cinnamon brown hair that obscured part of his face. It wasn't often that talking about his passions was met with anything other than looks of confusion or derision. He shifted, settling more comfortably in his chair with a rare sense of acceptance despite his nerdy ramblings.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The library was empty except for the work study student who was manning the check out desk. She didn't look up from the phone she was texting furiously on when Trowa walked past. He headed for the fiction section first, systematically working through his list. At the end he found all of the books he was looking for except one. It was the final volume of a nine book series, Shattered Innocence, about teenage fighter pilots. He sighed then shrugged. The release had been highly anticipated so he really wasn't surprised that all the copies were checked out. If it was still gone when he finished the rest of his selections he might have to buy a copy as his Christmas present.

Satisfied with the rest of his selections he wandered into the stacks in search of new books that caught his interest. He'd recently discovered an interest in sculpture and medieval medicine so he headed to those areas first. In the process he collected a biography on Robespierre and a modern language version of Canterbury Tales. By the time he was ready to leave the stack of books he carried was a precarious tower that he had to use his chin to keep from toppling over.

Outside it was snowing again so Trowa tucked as many books as would fit into his pockets then pulled the sides of his coat around the rest protecting them as well as he could. He'd barely taken three steps down the side walk before the sky opened up and began to dump moisture in earnest. Bending his head and picking up speed he swore under his breath. The dorm was on the other side of campus. Normally he would cut through, but the walkways had not been shoveled so it would be slower going than walking around. Not to mention that trying to plow through snow up to his knees without the use of his hands to help maintain his balance was a recipe for disaster.

A horn sounded behind him and Trowa ignored it assuming it was meant for someone else. It blared again, closer this time, and he picked up his pace even more annoyed at whoever was honking.

“Trowa!” Trowa's head shot up and he turned to see a jewel tone green Prius with Quatre behind the wheel keeping pace with him. “Do you want a ride?”

Burdened with borrowed books as he was Trowa didn't really think twice. He nodded and headed quickly for the passenger side of the car. The inside was dry and once Quatre closed the window, almost too warm in comparison to the outside. Once he was settled in the seat, safely buckled up, he carefully wiped down each book with the hem of his shirt. “Thank you. It wasn't supposed to snow today so I left my bag at home. I should have known better.”

Quatre's gaze flicked to the side and he smiled. “No problem. You shared your table with me this morning so it was the least I could do.” He glanced over again and his smile widened. “Looks like you are going to be busy this break.”

Trowa shrugged, his hands tightening on the stack of books in his lap. “I like to read. There's never time when classes are in session. Too much homework.”

“I know.” Quatre slowed then carefully brought the car to a stop for a red light. “I picked up the last Shattered Innocence book yesterday after finals and could not put it down. I finally finished it at four. That's why I was so late getting to breakfast this morning.”

“You read Wings Of The Gods? I was hoping to check it out, but all of the copies were already gone when I got there.”

“It was amazing!” Quatre grinned then twisted in his seat. He reached into the backseat and came back with a large hardbound book in his hand. He set it on top of Trowa's pile before he could protest. “You can give it back to me whenever. I'm sure we'll see each other at meals. If not my room and cell number are on the inside of the cover.”

Part of Trowa wanted to refuse and hand the book back. He was certainly capable of getting his own copy and he really didn't want to be in debt even for something as minor as the loan of a book, but the bright colors of the cover illustration caught him and his pride was swept away. Without consciously realizing he was doing it Trowa opened it to the first chapter and began eagerly devouring the words.

The absence of movement slowly filtered into Trowa's awareness and he raised his head to look around. The Prius was idling at the curb outside of the dorm and Quatre was watching him with an amused look on his face. “It's good isn't it?”

Trowa nodded, embarrassment pinking his cheeks. “It is so far.” Quickly he gathered up his books and slid from the car. “Thank you. For the ride and the book. I'll get it back you as soon as I can.”

“No rush.” Quatre's smile morphed into something decidedly wicked that stopped Trowa in his tracks. “I bet you'll be done with it pretty fast. Either way I'm looking forward to have someone to discuss it with.”

“Me too.” Trowa shut the door ducking his head to hide behind his bangs as he did so, surprised at how much he meant those two words. He hurried to the entrance way then turned slightly so he could watch Quatre drive away. As he juggled his books so that he could open the door he realized with a start that he was smiling and it wasn't just because social convention said it was the right thing to do.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun was just a pale memory of light on the horizon when Trowa set the book down. He had skipped lunch not noticing that it had come and gone while he was lost in the story. Reluctantly he put his marker in place glancing at the page number at the same time. With no small amount of reverence he closed the book and set it on his bed. Giving in to the rumbling ache in his stomach Trowa shrugged into his outerwear. Giving the novel one last longing look he let himself out of his room and strode down the hallway heading for the cafeteria.

The air was crisp and cold outside now that the snow had moved on taking the cloud cover with it. Trowa barely felt the chill even though his skin was bright pink almost immediately. His mind was preoccupied with the events of Wings Of The Gods and the possible places they could lead. He paused after stepping into the cafeteria using the pretense of stomping snow off his boots to surreptitiously scan the room for Quatre, annoyed at himself for doing so. He spotted the blond the same time Quatre noticed him and his heart sped up a little when Quatre brightened noticeably and waved him over. Trowa nodded his acknowledgment then hurried to fill his tray with food.

“You missed lunch.” Quatre's voice held a wide undertone of amusement and he grinned up at Trowa when he slid into the seat across the table.

“I was reading.” Trowa shrugged out of his coat and gloves before picking up his fork and going to work on his dinner. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he'd smelled food. They were serving pot roast, one his favorites, and that just added fuel to the fire. He took a few more bites then slowed down as the food began to hit his stomach. “I didn't realize I'd missed it until a few minutes ago.”

Quatre nodded then chuckled softly. “How far did you get?”

“Chapter ten. Captain Hennessy lost his legs trying to save Eddie and Jones. Jones is in bad shape and no one will tell him if Eddie is dead or alive. He was trying to get up when the medics sedated him.”

“That was one of the more intense parts.” Quatre paused then smiled ruefully. “I teared up when I read it. Eddie was one of my favorite characters, especially in this book. I came to like Major Reese too which surprised me. I thought he was an ass through all the other books.”

“Was?” Trowa pounced on the word with intensity of a cat on a wounded mouse. “Does that mean he's dead?”

“It means I read it in the past therefore grammar dictates I use past tense.” His eyes twinkled despite the firm tone of his voice.

“So he's alive then? I hope so, he's my favorite too.” Trowa was not about to let Quatre deflect his question that easily.

“I'm morally opposed to spoilers as they don't have context and it changes the impact of the events in the story if you know what is going to happen.”

Trowa laughed softly and shook his head. “That's nicer than read it your own damn self and find out which is what Cathy always tells me.”

The smile now gracing Quatre's lips was a bit tight around the edges though it remained perfectly polite. “Your girlfriend?”

“My sister. She's not a big fan of spoilers either.”

“I like her already.” Quatre's grin was back to normal and it was working on Trowa in a way that was both enjoyable and disconcerting.

“Do you like potato soup?”

“Yes?” There was more than a hint of confusion in Quatre's answer.

“She'd like you too. Books and potato soup are her favorite things in the world.”

“Good to know. What about you? Do you like potato soup?”

Trowa grimaced making his feeling on the subject clear. “No.”

“Is that why you stayed for the break? Fear of being forced to eat potato soup?”

“No.” Trowa shook his head and smiled slightly. “Peanut butter was invented so that I would never have to eat it again.” He paused to eat another few bites of his dinner before continuing. “She lives in Montana. Her and David have a sheep ranch and a couple of kids. They don't have a lot of money and I'm here on a scholarship.” He shrugged and returned his attention to his dinner. Quatre would figure it out or not. Either way Trowa was not comfortable with spelling out his financial situation to someone he barely knew regardless of how much he felt drawn to Quatre.

There was silence for a few moments before Quatre spoke. His voice was soft and a thread of pain, fresh and raw, wove through the words. “My sister, Iria, is going skiing with her boyfriend and then they are spending the holidays with his family. She invited me, but I really didn't want to intrude. Normally I would go home and spend the time with my dad, but he died this summer.” Quatre poked listlessly at a piece of cooked carrot then sighed. “It seemed more appealing to stay. Especially since there are people here to talk to.”

Trowa nodded. There was a big difference between choosing to spend time in solitude and having it thrust upon you unwillingly. “I'm sorry about your dad.” There were questions on the tip of his tongue, but he held back, unsure what he could say that wouldn't upset Quatre more. Seeing him pulling into himself, eyes clouded with sadness, hurt more than it should considering how long they had known each other.

“My mom died when I was born so it was always just dad, Iria and I. Dad and I were close when I was little, but we fought a lot when I was in high school. We were working through that though, coming around to understanding each other again.” Quatre set his fork down and pushed his plate away clearly finished with eating for the moment.

“I'm sorry.” Trowa repeated. “What happened?”

“Heart attack.” Quatre kept his gaze firmly on the scarred wooden table talk, but his voice remained mostly steady. “He had one a few years ago, but he'd been really good about following the doctor's orders. Rashid made sure he cut the fat and salt out of his diet and he started running with me in the mornings to get back into shape.” Quatre brushed furiously at his eyes and sighed deeply, suppressed tears giving it a ragged edge, before lifting his head. There was a smile firmly pasted in place though it was a small shadow of its usual brilliance. “I'm sorry you don't want to hear about that. I promised to discuss Wings Of The Gods with you. What did you think of Alphonse's change in attitude? It seemed a bit out of blue to me.”

“He's never been too solid in his convictions so it didn't surprise me much.” Trowa sipped his coffee and studied Quatre over the rim noting the dark bruising under his eyes and the way he seemed to be struggling to keep the corners of his mouth from drooping. “I don't mind. If you want to talk about your dad.”

“Thank you.” The smile softened, melting into something more real. “I really appreciate that, but I think I need to go back to my room and get some rest.” He added his mug and plate to the cutlery already on his tray and stood to leave. “I'm sorry. Thank you for listening. Will you be here for breakfast?”

Trowa nodded, a frown forming between his eyes.

“Good, I'm curious to see what you think of the rest of the book.”

Without another word Quatre hurried out of cafeteria leaving a confused and unhappy Trowa watching him go.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Trowa closed the book and set it down on his bedside table night had turned into the wee hours of the morning. The story had ended well and brought with it a satisfactory sense of resolution for the series. He had a mental checklist of things he wanted to discuss with Quatre over breakfast, but it was primarily details and how certain themes such as friendship and devotion to duty reoccurred throughout the books. With a pleased smile curving the corners of his lips he set the time on his alarm and turned off the light. Snuggling deeper under the covers he reminded himself to call Cathy in the morning before drifting off to sleep.

The light through the curtains was much brighter than it should have been when Trowa rolled over to check the time. The numbers on the dial read five minutes after ten confirming what his body was telling him. It was long pass when his alarm should have gone off and breakfast had been finished for well over an hour. Frustrated, but well rested, he threw the blankets off and sat up in bed. A quick check of the clock showed that the alarm was indeed set for seven thirty, but pm not am. He turned it off with an exasperated sigh and got up to shower.

By eleven o'clock Trowa was restless and having difficulty focusing on his book. After checking the clock five times in as many minutes he marked his place and set it down on the bedside table. He put on his coat, hat and gloves before grabbing Wings Of The Gods. The cafeteria didn't open until eleven thirty so he took the long way around campus stopping to look in the windows of the stores that sold branded merchandise as well as junk food and the little things college students always seemed to run out of such as deodorant, toothpaste and condoms.

Despite taking the scenic route and walking slowly the cafeteria was still closed when Trowa arrived. After brushing the snow off one of the outside benches he sat flipping through the book and rereading a passage here and there until the door lock snicked open. An older woman in a hair net waved him in and he followed her in grateful for the warmth as much as the meal. Lunch was hearty and filling, but despite the fact that Trowa barely took his eyes off the front door he was unable to make Quatre appear through sheer will power.

Twenty minutes after closing time Trowa allowed himself to be shooed out of the cafeteria. He told himself that he had missed breakfast so the fact that Quatre wasn't there for lunch didn't mean anything, but it did nothing to ease the feeling that something was wrong. The feeling of helplessness and worry gnawed at him and carried the reminder that this was why he chose not to let anyone get close. The fact that Quatre gotten so far past his guards in such a short time only added to the off balance feeling Trowa couldn't shake.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two days later with no sign of Quatre at any meals Trowa could no longer pretend he was not concerned. He told himself it was simply that he wanted to make sure Quatre got his book back. Years of building barriers between himself and the rest of the world made the rationalization easier to believe. However, it did nothing to ease the restlessness that had Trowa roaming the campus searching for a glimpse of Quatre.

Lying in bed that night Trowa remembered that Quatre had said his cell number was on the inside cover of Wings Of The Gods. After a brief but intense debate with himself he turned on the light and picked up the book. Carefully he entered the number double checking it three times before hitting save. Taking a deep breath he hit send. After ringing twice it went immediately to a recorded message where Quatre stated he was unable to answer the phone, but if Trowa would leave a message he would receive a call back as soon as possible. Unsure what to say that would not make him sound like a weirdo or a stalker he hung up.

Setting his phone on top of Quatre's book Trowa crawled back into bed and cuddled back under the covers. He turned off the light and closed his eyes determined to sleep. It was less than ten minutes later when he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The dim light through the curtains made a spiderweb pattern that threw the popcorn texture into a shadowy bas relief. Worry wrestled with the need to keep himself separated and apart from other people. Against his better judgment Trowa told himself if he did not see Quatre the following day he would go to his room and check on him. With a plan in place he rolled onto his side and drifted into a shallow, fitful sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The door to Quatre's dorm room looked like every other one in the hallway. Carefully Trowa double checked the number in the book before raising his hand to knock. Halfway there he paused and let it drop to his side. Now that he was here it seemed presumptuous and invasive to show up uninvited. On the other hand Quatre had mentioned that his phone number and address were in the book if Trowa needed to get in touch to return it. He was there simply to return Quatre's property. Any concern he might have after the conversation at dinner the other night did not play into it at all. Steeling himself Trowa raised his hand again and knocked before he could talk himself out of it.

He had turned to walk away when the door opened to reveal a sleepy eyed Quatre who seemed to be suffering from a chronic case of bed head.

“Trowa?” Quatre rubbed his eyes and had a short battle with a yawn that he lost to in the end.

“I brought back your book.” Trowa thrust it at Quatre, smiling despite the awkwardness he felt. “I missed breakfast the other day and I haven't seen you since so I thought I would bring it over.”

“Thanks.” Quatre took the book and shifted to the side to open the door a little wider. “Come on in. I hope you weren't worried.” He shut the door and gestured towards the bed for Trowa to take a seat. “Iria showed up out of the blue and decided I should go skiing with her and Michael. I just got back a couple of hours ago.”

“Did you have fun?” Trowa took the seat offered, feeling himself relaxing now that he knew everything was okay.

“It was nice. Iria and I talked a lot about dad and that helped too.” He ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair making the bits that had been lying flat stand up in awkward angles. “I'm sorry about the other night. I'd been out shopping earlier in the day and I saw this great book on trains. I had in my hand to buy for him when I realized that I didn't need to get him a gift. It hit me pretty hard coming out of the blue like that.”

Trowa nodded. “I don't really remember my parents. They died in a car accident when I was really young. Cathy raised me for the most part.” He paused then took a deep breath, studying Quatre's face. “If you want to talk about your dad I don't mind listening.”

“Thank you. I will take you up on that at some point. Right now I think I'm talked out. I would, however, love a cup of coffee and something to eat since I missed dinner. Would you like to go? My treat since I worried you.”

“Okay.” Trowa hated being in debt, but with Quatre it was different. There was something beginning between the two of them that made it feel less like an obligation he would have to repay and more like an opportunity.

Outside the snow was beginning to fall again in light fluffy flakes. What was a grassy lawn in front of the dorm during the rest of the year was now a virgin plane of pure white. As they stepped out of the building Trowa veered away from the parking lot towards a drift of snow gesturing for Quatre to follow him.

“When I was little and missing my parents Cathy would tell me they were in heaven looking down and watching over us. When I got older she told me that people who died with unfinished business, like leaving kids behind, became angels so they could see them grow into adults. I was never sure if I believed her or not, but I liked the idea.” Trowa paused, smiling at the memory. “On Christmas eve we would go outside and make snow angels. One for each of them and it would be our way of letting them know we were thinking of them.” He paused uncomfortable at being so open and hoping that Quatre would understand what he was trying to say. “Its not Christmas Eve yet, but I thought maybe you might want to anyway.”

Quatre smiled, his cold pinked cheeks giving him a look of cherubic innocence. “I would love to.” He tucked his keys into his pocket then spread his arms before falling back into the snow. Laughing with sheer abandon he spread his legs and moved his arms up and down to make the robe and wings of the angel. When he was finished Trowa offered him a hand and helped him to stand without marring the picture he'd made.

The snow began to fall faster as they stood there admiring Quatre's handy work. “Thank you.” He slipped his hand into Trowa's entwining their fingers and squeezing. When he tried to pull away Trowa's fingers tightened, holding on. “We should do this again on Christmas Eve. Make three of them.”

Trowa nodded then turned to look at Quatre. “Having cocoa after is part of the tradition too. With marshmallows if you like them.”

“I do and I would like that.” Quatre smiled up at Trowa and moved closer. “I think we should make our own traditions to go with it too.” Pausing just long enough to see that Trowa was returning his smile Quatre raised up on tip toes to bring their lips together.


End file.
